He Wasn't
by milovroxmysox
Summary: He WAS humiliated. He knew she thought of him as that person. RJ. Rory's last year at Yale. Please read. I personally think it's good, but I'm the writer...
1. Feels good doesn't it?

**I'm bored, searching for something to do. I don't know why, but lately, I've written a lot of stories. I guess it makes me feel better. Oh well. You don't care. I don't know what this story's about, I'm just lettin it fly. So here we go.**

**This is, well, I'm not sure when, but I do know it's when Jess is a new person, but it's not 6.08, it's after. **

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_"NO!"_

_"Don't say no to ,make me stop talking or to make me go away! Only tell me no if you really don't wanna be with me!"_

_"NO!"_

He closed his eyes at the memory. He had been humiliated. He WAS humiliated. He knew she thought of him as that person. As the guy that was immature enough to try and convince her to leave her livelyhood and come with him off the limb. Or is on the limb? What does it matter. All he knew was, that she saw him as white trash.

But he wasn't that guy anymore! He was different. He wasn't ... He just wasn't. And he wanted her to see that. And he was going to show her that.

Ever been ripped from your thoughts? Yea, well, then you know it feels like they knew what you were thinking about. So, that's what happened.

"Come back to us!" His boss yelled. (his female boss to be exact)

"Dammit Sherry I hear ya!"

"Uh huh,"

"And who is this "us" you speak of?"

"Huh?"

_"Come back to us!_ (using his mocking Sherry voice). We're the only ones here..."

"Well, hypethetically speaking."

"How?"

"Quit mocking me and get back to work if you wanna keep your job."

"Yes ma'am"

Once she had her backed turned, he mouthed a quick _screw you_ while rolling his eyes. Most publishers jobs are very tiring. But Jess just always felt bored. He wanted something to do. He wanted a better job, hopefully someone with a brain would buy his book, and pick it up and pay for a better endorcement deal.

One can only dream.

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It had been a whole year since she returned to Yale. In her first semester back, it was the most stressful time back. Not because of the heavy workload, (which was, trust me, definetly not non-existent) but because Paris was the editor of The Yale Daily News. She had never thought it fair that her major was pre-med, and she was heading the job everyone in the journalism department wanted. Rory wouldn't have minded if she didn't get to be the editor, (okay, maybe a little) but giving it to Paris was just not fair. But she had gotten over it, considering the fact that she had conquered that position in the next semester. But Rory was to busy to reminice on this, due to the fact that Paris was still on the paper.

"Dammit Paris!"

"What is so horrible about me wanting to write a piece on the injustice pre-medical students get?"

"Besides the fact that some of them have the best dorm rooms on campus, and that they get some of the best proffesors Yale can offer, no one agrees with you!"

"They might agree with me if they read this piece!"

"God dammit Paris!"

"That's the seventh time you have said "dammit" in the discussion."

"Yea well, you're the only person I tend to curse to!"

"Well, that's not my problem."

"I beg to differ."

"Well, I- I don't."

"Oh, very witty."

"Dammit Rory!"

"See, it's nice sometimes isn't it?"

"Just let me do the piece!"

"No!"

"I'll leave you alone about journalism related topics for the rest of our Yale career!"

"Oh, like I'm gonna buy into that."

"Please Rory!"

"No, your not doing the piece, and that's the end of it." She turned on her heel and walked over to her desk. She saw three stories that needed to be edited sitting on her desk. She turned and glared at the student filled room.

"What is this people? If we're gonna make our deadline I wanna see this stack reaching my forehead by the end of the day!" The hustle and bustle noticably sped up when this statement was made. She took a sip of her, extremely disgusting, coffee. it may have been gross, but it sure as hell got the job done. She sighed as she picked up the first story. A piece on the repaving of the side parking lot. She smiled when she saw it. She had given the piece to a freshman who's high school teachers said showed a lot of promise. But she wanted to see that promise for herself. She almost felt quilty giving the piece to her, but she knew if she would work at it, a winning streak would prevail.

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He threw his keys into small basket sitting on a small table next to his small apartment's door. But he didn't mind the size. He actually almost liked it. It was about the size of his apartment in New York, which he had shared with four other guys. And it was costing about a third of what the other apartment had costed him. Yep, it looked like things were really turning around for him.

For better or for worse, was one of the only things he was still unsure of.

He walked over to his bookcase, skimming for something to satisfy his nightly reading session. What caught his eye, he had nearly forgotten about. It was a paperback copy of The Fountainhead.

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She walked into her dorm room. She liked the sound of that, HER dorm room. Sure, she shared it with another girl named Charissa, but it was still hers. Co-owned, but still hers.

She walked over to her bookshelf trying to decide what to read. What caught her eye was her paperback copy of Death in The Afternoon.

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**A/N** - incase you didn't catch it, Death In The Morning was written by Ernest Hemingway. PLEASE R&R! The last story I recently posted, no one even reviewed, and I posted it several days ago. Please review this one. No reviews means you don't like it. Even if you don't like it, please review anyways. Thank you!


	2. The Bright Lights

**Ok, I know it''s been like months, but come on, I was gonna talk about how busy I've been blah blah blah... when reality I'm just extremly lazy and don't give a crap. So yea, I'm gonna continue one of the three pending stories I have going on right now. Why do I have so many? Why not just work on your story? Because as many of you know, starting a story is easier than figuring out what to do in your current one. Okay, now on with the story!**

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She ran her fingers along the spine of the book. Why did she even have this? It's not like she ever read it.

She was torn from her thoughts when a bright light came to her eyes.

"CHARISSA WHAT THE HELL!"

"I just wanted to save this moment!"

"What moment!"

"You holding a book by an author that, if you could, you would have shot due to his writing abilities."

"So you took a picture of it..."

"I do believe we've been past this."

"Oh my god, whatever, just next time, warn me when your about to flash a bright light in my face."

"Deal."

She placed the book back on the bookshelf. She hadn't particurally noticed how long she had been staring at it.

"HEY!"

Another bright light came into her eyes just a moment after hearing that word.

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT WARNING ME!"

"I just did..." Charissa sayed with an innocent look plastered on her face.

Rory rolled her eyes as she turned on her heel and headed off to her room. Luckily, she didn't have to be tortured by her Day AND night.

Ugh, why was she thinking of him? I mean, it's _Jess_, she keeps telling herself that. The one that went away. Came back, went away, came back, went away. Maybe there was another sequence in there, but she wasn't quite sure. Maybe he had done more to screw her over, but hell, apparently she didn't care.

Oh, oh but the last time he came. The last time he came, was perfect. He may have left, but he sure as hell had a right to. The girl he had loved wasn't, well, HER.

_He gave me his number_ she thought.

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**Yes, like nothing, I realize that. But I don't know what to do next. Review if you like, or hate, w/e. I'm not picky when it comes to criticism**


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